Kill All Your Friends
by They Call Me The Young Geezy
Summary: I kidnapped Gerard Way. Yeah, so? Well, then Taylor, Rachel, and I started using him to get information on where our other idols were… and? We're still sane. I promise. My Chemical Romance fanfiction.
1. A 34 Year Old Man

A/N: So, I had this odd vision thing one day: what would happen if my best friends and I kidnapped Gerard? NO: SERIOUSLY! Picture that for a minute. I mean, what the fuck are you going to _do _with him? So I planned this story out. I really hope you enjoy it 'Cause it's probably my favorite story to write. By the way, around when Taylor and I talk to him: I wrote 500 words and that got deleted. So, if I seem enraged and befuddled around that point, I apologize.

On with the point.

P.S. I finally broke down and decided to post this. I already have 3 stories going that I try to regularly update and now I won't be able to update as much but... w/e. This is my favorite. I want to satesfy your lovely reviewer needs. xD

Thanks everyone who reviews, you're awesome!

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><p>Chapter one: A 34 Year Old Man<p>

"SHIT, TAYLOR, IS HE ALIVE!" I screamed, dragging Gerard fucking Way's body along my best friend's tile floor. Taylor was rich as hell—she lived next to Tiger Wood's ex-wife for crying out loud. Her parents weren't home—they were on vacation in Fiji. Yeah, I said it. _Fiji._ And they didn't bring Taylor. I don't know why. She never got on with her mom and Keith, her stepdad.

Okay, I must sound insane, let me introduce myself, I'm Madison. I'm 15 years young and my favorite band is My Chemical Romance. My best friend is Taylor; she just turned 16 in December. It was January. We had a few days of winter break left.

"I… I think so. How do you tell? Holy fuck, can I give him mouth to mouth?" Taylor inquired as she tightened her grip on his legs.

"No… no. Let's put him on your bed for now—"

"—so we can?—"

"NO! HE'S MARRIED WITH A KID!" I argued. I knew she wanted to rape him or something. A 34 year old man… but… he was Gerard Way, right? So… NOPE! I couldn't rape him. That's just silly. Well, also illegal. But kidnapping him is illegal too, right?

I grabbed his shoulders as Taylor took his legs and we piled him onto her bed. She then ran over to the curtain and shut them.

"What do we do now?" Taylor blankly questioned. I shrugged. We captured the lead singer of My Chemical Romance.

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><p><em>One Hour Prior<em>

"NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NAN NA NA NA NA NA NA BU DUM BU DUM DUM!" Taylor and I sang along to Danger Days. She was driving her new car. It was her stepdad's old truck. It was pretty nice, actually.

"Fuck, I gotta get gas. You mind paying, Maddy?" Taylor begged me. I smirked.

"Nice try. Get yourself a job and pay it yourself," I sarcastically retorted. She groaned and got pulled into a local 7-11. I looked around. Being a natural people watcher, I stared at the different ethnicities and ages surrounding me.

A girl in her mid-20s… probably European… and a man who appeared to be African American… A young girl with her mother… A scarlet haired man in a leather jacket with impeccable bone structure on his face… A—WOAH! WAS THAT GERARD WAY?

He was carrying a package of cigarettes out of the store and heading to a car. A trans-am. _The _trans-am? Woah. It… it was Gerard Way. My idol... Woah. Okay, what do I do? I mean… do I approach him? Approach with caution? Or with sincerity? Jesus Christ. Decisions.

"Taylor!" I called to her, leaning over the driver's window.

She turned from pumping gas in the truck and made a muffled, "Hmm?"

"Gerard. Way. Over. There. Man with cigarettes. And the red hair. There!" I pointed to him. Her mouth literally fell onto the ugly disgusting concrete floor. She nearly screamed. She did scream, actually. This earned glances from spectators all around the gas station. The little girl with her mom locked the car. One guy was laughing. I facepalmed.

Taylor flipped out. I didn't know exactly what to _do. _I mean, approaching him would be a bit much, right?

"TAYLOR! HE'S DRIVING AWAY!" I screamed as the Trans-Am parked a few spaces away started to exit the 7-11.

She quickly finished getting gas, swiped her credit card and laughed at the price of gas, and hopped into the truck. I was breathing heavily and she was making awkward grunting noises. Wait-what did we plan on doing?

Taylor turned the car on and Danger Days blasted through the speakers. I freaked out-the fucking singer on the soundtrack was less than 300 feet away from me! Holy shit...

I turned the music down and focused on our target. Wait, what did we plan on doing once we caught up to Gerard? WOAH, WERE WE FOLLOWING HIM?

I heard an odd spilling noise but ignored it, considering the circumstances.

"TAYLOR?" I asked as she turned onto 42nd street. "WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

Her face tightened into a devious smile as she clearly said, "I never thought we'd stalk Gerard Way. My dream has come true. Can we steal him?"

I shot her an awkwardly surprised look. "Well... that's illegal..."

She snickered a bit and kept turning onto every street the Trans-Am decided to roam onto. I saw him looking back at us in his rear view mirror. Taylor started to giggle and nearly jump out of the driver's seat. I was a bit worried. Were we actually following him? Seriously?

"Taylor, what the hell are we doing?"

She finally had a sense of reality. "I think we should just get him to pull over, ask for an autograph, and be done with it. Right?"

I nodded. That sounded sensible. I hoped.

We both turned into a darkish alleyway behind a Super Target. Gerard pulled over. Taylor and I were still making strange giggling fangirl noises and jumping around in our seats.

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and exited his car as Taylor pulled over near him. He lit it, looking like a badass, being awesome. I wanted to scream.

"HEY!" Gerard yelled as he approached Taylor's car. If fate wanted me to die right then and there, I think I would've been okay with it.

Taylor leaped out the car and ran straight up to him. I followed close behind, nearly stumbling with every step.

"Uh... well... hi," I muttered as he took my hand and shook it. Tears formed at the bottom of my eyes. Gerard Way was shaking my hand. He... he made the music that saved my life... wow.

Taylor, in a daze, squealed and wrapped her arms around him. Out of surprise, the cigarette fell from his mouth and onto the dirty street, still lit. He didn't seem to care.

"Uh. Are you motherfucking following me?" he inquired as Taylor let go, trying to remember how to breathe and save her sanity.

"OH GOD, I'm sorry, Gerard. It was pure impulse. There was a voice in my head that told me to do that... and I listened... but I'm sorry," Taylor rambled. I could tell that she was about to faint or something.

I saved myself from looking like an idiot for being best friends with someone like Taylor (well, no one was like Taylor...) so I said, "No. We just wanted an autograph or something."

He nodded, smiling. I think he liked me more. Heh.

I handed him my phone as Taylor wondered around doing who knows what, looking at surrounding garbage cans and trash bags.

Gerard took out a sharpie (don't ask me why he kept one in his jacket pocket) and asked, "Who do I make this out to?"

I giggled. "Madison. I know, boring name... it wasn't my choice."

"No, no, it's fine."

He scribbled my name and his signature onto the back of my phone. I couldn't help but smile like a maniac.

"Well, I better get going, Lady B and LynZ will be wondering where I a—" he was cut off my the violent thrust of a trash can at his head and my scream. I prayed that no cars surrounding the alley saw what just happened.

Gerard fell to the ground with a crash as I turned to Taylor who was holding the plastic weapon above her head. My mouth formed an "o" shape. Taylor was appalled too.

"Did... did I just do that...?" she asked no one in particular.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even process what just happened. Gerard. Phone. Trash can. Thud. Holy shit.

"What do we do?" Taylor screamed, tossing the can in the other direction, hitting a parked car and sounding an alarm. She started to cry. "FUCK! WHAT DO WE DO NOW?"

The alarm seemed to get louder. I started to pick up Gerard's unconscious body and opened the door to Taylor's truck. She stared at me.

"This is what we're doing! We'll take him back to your place and keep him there for a little while! What the hell should we do? Leave his fucking body here and wait for authorities or the owner of a fucking beeping car to get back and think he's dead? OUR FINGERPRINTS ARE ON HIS HANDS! LET'S GO!"

She nodded slightly, grabbing the other side of his body and throwing him into the back seat of her car. She climbed into the driver's seat as I nearly started crying too.

"WAIT, his car!" I worried. She shrugged.

"Fuck it, we'll pick it up later!"

With that, we ignored the abnormal spilling noise, the fact that the amount of gas in her car was rapidly lowering, Gerard's lifeless body, and drove to Taylor's house.

It would be a long day.

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><p><em>One hour later<em>

"We could make him food," I said, pushing Gerard's wild red hair out of his face. He was drooling in his sleep. D'aww.

"Meh, let's watch him till he wakes up," Taylor said, sitting on the bed next to him and staring at his gorgeous face. It was creepy.

I then looked around my best friend's room. I knew it well. Besides, I spent nearly every weekend and holiday at Taylor's house. My Chemical Romance posters, quotes, and her guitar that I wrote MCR lyrics all over surrounded us. This was a problem. He'd think we were obsessed—don't get me wrong, we were! We just didn't want Gerard to know that.

I walked over to the nearest one that was right above her TV and guitar hero system. I pulled it off the wall, careful not to rip off Gerard, Frank, Mikey or Ray's faces. She looked stunned.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Taylor asked. I beamed.

"What would you think if two guys followed you into a dark alley, started asking for your autograph, knocked you over the head with a trash can, and then you woke up in their room with a poster looming across from you?"

She shrugged, "I would think that they were pedophiles, of course. And that I was hungry. You'd be hungry after you wake up right?"

I rolled my eyes. She wasn't getting the point.

"If you were Gerard Way—"

"IF I WAS GERARD WAY, I WOULD DO NAUGHTY THINGS TO MYSELF," she blurted out. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"No. If you were him and you woke up with posters of your band and quotes you wrote around a teenager's room, what would you do?"

"I dunno, walk home?"

I facepalmed.

Gerard started to move around a bit and make noises.

I ripped down posters, quotes, sketches, pictures, anything related to My Chemical Romance off Taylor's walls and shoved them in the closet, closing the door.

"Wh—where am I?" Gerard asked, sitting up and rubbing his head. Taylor laughed fanatically. I tried to sooth him.

"Uh. You're at Taylor's house," I calmly explained. This didn't seem to go well with him.

"Who the fuck is Taylor? And who the fuck are you!" He stared at me for a second. Then he added, "You're that girl. Madison. I signed your phone."

My heart skipped a beat when he said my name but I peacefully smiled.

"Taylor hit you upside the head with a garbage pail—" I shot her a look. "So we brought you back here to rest. We didn't want to leave you in a dark alleyway I guess. You'd look dead."

He nodded, "Thanks, I guess. Can you drop me off to my car? LynZ is probably worried as hell."

Taylor nearly growled at Gerard's wife's name. When Gerard turned away, she pointed to her iPod speakers and mouthed, 'Should I use this?'

I madly shook my head no as Gerard turned back to us.

"Yeah, sure. I'll go get Taylor's keys."

Taylor seemed to be disappointed that he wasn't going to stick around any longer. I left her with him and walked out into the living room, grabbing the keys and a banana. The local news was on... something caught my attention. It was our town. Specifically near our neighborhood... near where we lived.

"...Local Super Target burst into flames. Fire started near an alleyway but spread to the shopping center. Authorities are speculating the cause—most likely from a careless smoker and some gasoline scattered around the street. More at 11," the news caster's voice robotically said. I widened my eyes. _Did we set Target on fire?_

"TAYLOR GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" I shouted to my friend who, still bemused, made her way out to where I was standing eating a banana.

"Yes? Oh and do we have to drop him off? Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up. T.V. Look. Now."

She glanced to the screen which flashed a helicopter shot of a flaming Super Target. Her expression changed from excited to livid. Taylor grabbed the remote from the couch and turned the news off.

She whispered so Gerard couldn't eavesdrop, "His car is still out there. That means, he doesn't have a ride home unless he tells us where he lives... because I am NOT letting him take Keith's old car. Keith would throw a fit..."

"So, what do we do?"

There was a gauche silence.

A ring of the doorbell broke the silence, along with a scream.


	2. Calvin Klein

A/N: References to Mindless Self Indulgence, The Used, Blink-182, and Green Day.

I don't like this chapter too much but I wanted to update SOMETHING so, here.

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><p>Chapter Two: Calvin Klein<p>

"Holy fuck, what if it's a mass murderer?" Taylor worried, peering over the kitchen and living room to the door. It was glass with metal vines and twists running along it. All I could make out was a tall man wearing a hat and uniform holding a box. The mail man?

"Well, I see a guy. It could be a rapist. Or just the mail man. Did you order anything online recently?" I asked her. She blushed but it quickly faded. She was proud of her nerdyness.

There was another scream but we ignored it. Probably just Gerard freaking out. The norm.

"Only my limited edition Party Poison laser gun, a replica of the wonderfully awesometastic one featured in the Na Na Na and Sing music videos. Why do you ask?"

"Because I think it's here..."

"WHAT? HOLY DAMN!" Taylor screamed as she pushed past me and and raced over to the door. She waved to the guy with the package and smiled. "Should I open the door? Mom tells me that I shouldn't open doors for strangers..."

I rolled my eyes and left her with the controversy of the mail man. I walked back to her room-also the source of the screaming.

"Hi Gerard what's u-OH GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

Gerard was still laying in bed, mouth wide open, staring at some sort of poster. I couldn't see the picture on it but Gerard seemed horrified so I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

He slowly turned the poster around. On it was a photo of him shirtless in a Calvin Klein ad and different dirty phrases written all over his face and body.

"What the fruit is your friends problem?" Gerard asked in shock. I shrugged.

"My theory is that she's mentally unstable," I said as I heard Taylor wickedly laughing and opening her package in the kitchen. I moved a bit closer to the bed and took the poster from Gerard, reading a few of the phrases surrounding his motherfucking perfect face.

_Sexy face, PERFECT NOSE, awesome eyebrows, die for eyes, I totally wanna bang this guy._

Yeah. Taylor wrote THAT. She's a fucking psychopath, I know. But she's my psychopath.

"Uh. Sorry for her insane behavior. By the way, Target is on fire so... we can't exactly get you to your car... because it's in flames," I slowly said. The last part was a bit tough to explain but I just told him straight up.

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. I think we forgot to screw the gas thing and you left your lit cigarette on the ground... that wasn't smart. You shouldn't smoke, by the way."

"WHAT?" his eyes were wide and he sat up on the bed, standing up. "Fuck it, I'll call Lyn-Z to pick me up."

"NO WAIT, GERARD!" I cried, running after him.

"Pew, pew, pew!" Taylor yelled from the living room. Shit, she was having ray gun battles with Gerard's motherfucking replica ray gun.

I picked up the iPod docking station, just in case, and followed him out.

"PEW PEW! PARTY! THERE'S SOME DRACS UP AHEAD!" Taylor called as Gerard ran to the other room to see her holding the ray gun and running around. He ruffled through his hair and got his phone out of his pocket.

"That's it, I'm calling the police. YOU knocked me out!" he yelled, pointing to Taylor. "And YOU kept me here. So there. That's enough evidence."

Taylor pointed the fake laser gun at Gerard and muttered through clenched teeth, "Don't. You. Dare."

"Taylor, stop fucking around, this calls for desperate measures!" I yelled.

And in a few seconds, I hit Gerard in the same spot on the head, and he fell to the ground with a _BOOM._ Poor guy. He'd probably have brain damage.

"Madison..."

"What? You used a trash can."

"Yeah, but-"

"No butts. We'll put him in the upstairs closet."

"WHAT?" Taylor argued.

I must have sounded _crazy._ Mental hospital insane. But I was okay with that.

"It locks from the outside, right?" I questioned, beginning to grab his arms and pulling him to the direction of the stairs.

"Sure... but... you know it gets really hot in there... and why don't we just take him home before we get in anymore trouble?"

I raised an eye brow and shot her a look. "Oh, please, we'll get some goddamn fans. Not the fan_girls_ electric fans. We'll keep him for a few days. That's it. Ask him the questions we've always wanted to know."

Taylor hesitated but finally agreed. After a ruthless five minutes of taking his body up the stairs, we managed to pull him into the holiday closet that contained the air conditioning system and decorations. For some reason, the closet always felt like a thousand degrees.

It seemed like a repeat of what we had just done a few minutes prior. But that's okay. We had Gerard.

"Are... we... at... all... thinking about... the... consequences... of... what we're... doing?" Taylor asked, breathing heavily after leaving the closet and running back down then upstairs to get fans.

"Mleh. Who cares?" I answered, repeatedly stroking Gerard's hair. It was soft. But I liked it better black. Maybe I'd buy him some hair dye...

"MADISON, it's not like he's gonna fall in love with us or something."

"OBVIOUSLY! He's motherfucking married!" I yelled, moving away from Gerard and beginning to plug in fans around his body.

"That would make this plot line so delusional and predictable," Taylor said, trailing off into some rant about how stories involving love interests are so overrated.

"What the fuck?" **(A/N: You know how Frank and Ray were in a horror movie? Picture that being said like Frank says it. Message me if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Continue xD)**

Taylor shrugged. "Fuck it."

"With pleasure," I muttered as I walked out of the steaming closet and downstairs to get some root beer.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Taylor screamed.

"CLOSE THE DOOR," I yelled to her.

I heard the door slam and the lock click.

I ran back upstairs, my root beer still cold in my hands, and up to the hallway that ended with the door.

Taylor and I heard a muffled, "HEY!"

I turned to her and laughed. We actaully kindapped someone. Why wasn't I _that _guilty for what I had done? I actually felt a bit... rebellious... like a bad ass. Hip like bad ass? MAYBE WE COULD KIDNAP JIMMY TOO!

After pondering other people we could hold for ransom (or for pleasure), I snapped back to reality and stared at the door.

"Hi!" Taylor said joyfully.

"Where... where am I?" Gerard asked from his prison room.

"You're at my house," Taylor answered.

"HEY! Get me out of here!" Gerard yelled, banging on the door a few times.

"Ah, fuck, what if we get arrested?" I asked her. I set the root beer down on a box labeled "Christmas Shit". Oh, how creative her Step Father was.

"HMMM, you should've thought of that BEFORE you hit him with my iPod speakers!" Taylor raged, stomping off downstairs to her room.

I sighed and walked closer to the door, wondering what Gerard was doing behind it.

"Hey," I said calmly.

"WELL HELLO," he angrily yelled.

"We just want to ask you a few questions."

"I JUST WANT TO GET HOME TO MY WIFE AND KID."

Hmmm, he was being tough. Maybe we could starve him...

...But we weren't savages.

Not _yet, _at least.

"Soon. I promise. Just answer the questions."

"OKAY, THEN ASK THEM."

"Later. I need time to think."

"OH, I'VE GOT ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING TIME IN THE WORLD," he retorted. Fuck, I actually felt bad. Oh well. What's done is done.

I hurried downstiars and saw Taylor in her room, putting on her Killjoy costume, and ninja-ing around with her ray gun. On a normal occasion, I would be okay with this. The fact that Gerard was upstairs and might be able to hear her yelling about Dracs and BLI, that was a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna turn Destroya on, okay?" Taylor said as she walked back into the living room to grab her abandoned iPod speakers. She threw them onto her bed, too lazy to turn music on.

"Mhm. What are we gonna do about him?"

She smiled like the devil had possessed her. "Heh heh, we'll feed him if he's good."

"TAYLOR."

"No, I'm joking. We'll feed him sometimes and let him go soon. I dunno. Endings are tough to brainstorm."

"He has his phone... doesn't he?" I asked her. She shrugged. Then her eyebrows rose.

"HE COULD CALL THE-"

"-POLICE!" I finished for her.

We both ran all the way back upstairs and approached the door. Hmm, he could escape. We stared at the door for a bit and I decided to talk.

"Gerard?" I inquired, inching closer to his residency.

"WHAT?"

"Stay back, okay. We have..."

Taylor made hand signals towards her gun. I figured it'd be smart to tell him that we had a weapon.

"A gun," Taylor said as she put her ear against the door.

"That's just great," Gerard laughed. "I'm going to die. Murdered by a fangirl. That'll be a new one."

I slowly opened the door to see the lovely Gerard sitting upon the air conditioning system and holding the phone to his ear.

"Shit," he said, hanging up. "I called the cops on you bastards."

"Oh. Well, call them back and tell them everything is fine."

"Why would I do that?"

"CALL THEM!"

He slowly dialed the number as Taylor walked in the too-small closet behind me. She pulled her bandana down and smiled at the sight of our hero.

"Hi. Yeah, I called a few seconds ago," Gerard said into the phone. There was a pause. "No, no, officer. There's something very wrong."

Taylor held up her Party Poison gun in defense. Gerard shook his head.

"Uh, never mind. Sorry I called."

He hung up.

"Ask me those questions," said Gerard as he leaped off his perch and stood in front of me. "And let me go. Simple as that."

Taylor and I exchanged glances and nodded.

Taylor turned to Gerard and thought for a moment. She must have been deciding on the perfect question to ask. But, apparently, Taylor had more important things to think about. So, she asked, "Tell me everything hilarious and interesting about the band. OH! And are you divorcing Lyn-Z anytime soon?"

I hit Taylor's arm and recoiled, "Sorry. Taylor's a fucktard. Uh, why didn't you release that scrapped album? Some of your fans might have liked it a lot."

Gerard shrugged, "We didn't feel it was necessary to release something we weren't proud of."

"Was it like your older music?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dark."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Listen, you girls need to understand that Danger Days was the band growing after realizing many different things about the world. The Black Parade is dead. Three Cheers is over. Bullets is long gone. Please get the fuck over it."

I told him, a bit more angry, "Well, Gerard, as one of your newer fans, I think your older music has gotten me through many more tough times."

"Well, writing it got us through tough times. But those times are over."

"Yeah, well your FAN'S shit lives aren't!"

He was silent. Taylor looked to me, then to our hero. She backed up towards the wall. I was all up in Gerard's face. I was pretty tall and the top of my head nearly hit his nose. But he couldn't have been intimidated by me.

"Sorry about that. We made that music in a dark period of time. That era is ceased."

Gerard then pushed past me and opened the door to the closet. I picked up a nearby plugged in fan and brought it to the landing, where he walked away. He was trotting downstairs. Where the fuck was he going?

"GERARD!" Taylor screamed, carrying her ray gun and scurrying next to me.

"FUCK OFF."

"Mleh," I mumbled.

"Ray gun or fan?"

I gaped at her. "Wha-?"

"LISTEN," Taylor started as we slowly walked down the stairs. "We're in some deep shit. It's gonna get worse if he leaves and tells the cops or something."

"No, it'll get worse if we keep him here..."

"SO! WE COULD GET MOTHERFUCKING JIMMY URINE, BERT MCCRACKEN, MARK HOPPUS, OR BILLIE JOE TO COME TO MY HOUSE. Do you know how mind blowing that would be?"

I nodded.

Gerard was almost to the front door. It was an odd front door, let me tell you that much. Very difficult to open and it had a complicated lock.

He was struggling trying to push it open when Taylor walked up behind him and hit him on the head with the ray gun.

For the third time, Gerard's head hit Taylor's tile floor.

He had to have brain damage after being handled by us.

* * *

><p>AN: I know, not as funny as the first chapter and kind of confusing to understand exactly where they are at the varied times.

LET ME EXPLAIN:

Taylor's house is like this.

You walk in, you're in the front room. It has two couches. Not too exciting-not much action goes down there. If you keep walking a little bit, you'll get to the kitchen. Well, the living room. You're nearly in the kitchen but it's separated by a counter. The living room is just a TV, two couches (I think), and a chair. There are windows and a door that leads outside to her pool and backyard. If you keep going down the front room to the kitchen path (near the living room) you reach... BUM BUM BUM, TAYLOR'S ROOM! Her room is basically trashed. Sometimes. I dunno. No meaning to bash on her, she's one of my best friends xD But there's a bed up against the farthest wall from the door and a window that you can see the garage out of. Well, the entrance to the garage. She also has a closet and bathroom in her bedroom. If you leave her room, the stairs are near there. They go straight upstairs. The closet is close to the landing. It actually _does _lock from the outside. I locked Taylor in it once. Heh heh heh. :3

Sorry if that was really vague and it doesn't make any sense at all. I'm also sorry that it was a stupid chapter. It'll get better, I promise.

-Contro May


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